Chapter 4

I am a writer, Chapter 004

Chapter 4

"Hmm, where was my house again?"

This was said after coming out of the Blue Forest Publishing Company.

I had returned to 15 years ago.

I was living with my parents then, but the address of that house didn't come to mind right away.

As I pondered, I searched my pockets.

Looking for something.

But there was nothing in my pockets that I usually held.

What came out of my pockets were a wallet, keys, and a slider phone, which was considered an antique in the smartphone market.

"It's not there, is it?"

What I was looking for was a cigarette.

Something I used to smoke out of habit when I needed to think.

Then I remembered.

"Oh! Come to think of it, I hadn't started smoking yet."

That's right.

I hadn't learned to smoke even in the military.

I probably started smoking when I found out my wife was pregnant.

In the end, it wasn't my child.

The news of her pregnancy, which was like a bolt from the blue when I was starting my career as a writer.

I learned about it while drinking with a friend who was preparing to be a tax accountant, following my father's advice.

During the drinking, the friend went to smoke, and I thought it might help me calm down.

Thinking back, it was funny.

The first time I smoked, my throat hurt and I coughed continuously, but eventually, it became an inseparable part of my life.

That thing called a cigarette.

I looked around.

There was a convenience store right in front of me.

But I didn't go in to buy anything; I just stopped at the entrance.

"Come to think of it, I had a healthy body that had never smoked. Do I really need to ruin it by buying cigarettes?"

The alcohol and cigarettes I had to endure to maintain my family for the sake of my daughter, Seung-i.

I couldn't avoid them.

As an editor, the more sincere conversations with the CEO or writers happened over drinks and while smoking.

"Thinking about it, our country is really funny."

Such occasions have decreased over time, but from my experience and what I've heard from friends, it was the same everywhere.

No matter how hard you tried to have meetings by drinking coffee, the important decisions were usually made or changed over drinks or while smoking, especially in large corporations.

Thinking about this, I asked myself at the entrance of the convenience store.

"Hmm, should I just quit this time?"

If I could quit, it would be better to do so.

"Yeah, even in 'Jap-hak-dasi-geuk,' they said it wasn't good."

Jap-hak-dasi-geuk.

It was one of the variety shows that aired in 2017, where knowledgeable people from various fields traveled to a specific region and chatted about diverse topics.

There was a brain scientist among them, and someone from another field asked:

"Does smoking really help you concentrate?"

The scientist said it did help you concentrate.

Apparently, there are thinking pathways in our brain, and the components of cigarettes narrow the distance, allowing you to think faster.

However, the problem is that once you start smoking, your body adapts, and when you don't smoke, the pathways become so distant that your brain feels rigid.

The conclusion was that it's better not to smoke.

"Besides, this time I need to live well because I feel wronged."

After being laid off from the publishing company where I had loyally worked for 15 years and moving to Canada.

There, my wife said:

"Who would have thought you'd become such a fat old man?"

A fat old man.

I became that way because of certain people.

Anyway, when I think about my wife, who ignored my alcohol-soaked and smoke-filled self, I need to live healthily and impressively.

Thinking about my wife, I suddenly thought of my daughter.

"Seung-i..."

Before leaving for Canada, my daughter, who used to follow me around adorably.

I loved her so much that I wouldn't have minded if she were my own eye.

But...

"O Yeong-gon's child, damn it."

Even if I married my wife, I wouldn't be able to see my daughter, Seung-i.

To do that, I would have to pretend not to know that she was O Yeong-gon's child and live with my wife.

I didn't want to do that.

I didn't want my daughter to be raised by a fake father.

Thinking about my situation before and after returning to the past, I craved a cigarette.

But I turned away from the convenience store entrance.

"No, I absolutely won't smoke again because it's even more frustrating this time."

What if important conversations happen while smoking?

I'll make sure important conversations can't happen without me.

I'll become the 'A' that no one can talk about without me.

***

A quite old apartment in Dangsan-dong.

There it was.

15 years ago, before I started my family, the place where I lived with my parents.

404.

Standing in front of the door with that number, I couldn't easily go in.

There were many things that complicated my mind before and after returning to the past.

So I had forgotten.

My parents.

Both of them passed away when Seung-i turned 10.

They were in a major accident on a limousine bus returning from a trip.

It had been 5 years since I last saw them.

Although I returned to the past due to a wrongful death, it felt like the greatest blessing to me.

'I can see my parents again.'

The parents I couldn't even celebrate their 60th birthday with.

Thinking about this, I couldn't go in, feeling nervous.

I didn't know what to do when I saw them again.

Suddenly, someone hit my back hard.

Smack!

"Ouch!"

A sharp pain that made all the confusion in my head disappear.

An old memory came back.

"Son, what are you doing standing there?"

A voice calling me 'son.'

It was younger than the one that called me 10 years before they passed away, but it was definitely my mother's voice.

I turned my head in surprise, as if I had forgotten the pain in my back.

There, my mother was standing with a shopping bag with a protruding vegetable.

My mother in her forties, with a son in his twenties.

Seeing my mother, I murmured.

"Mom... Mom..."

My eyes welled up instantly.

Although it wasn't the last face I saw when I closed her casket, it was the same as the portrait she prepared in her forties, wishing to leave a younger image.

My mother's expression, which had been smug after hitting my back, turned confused.

"What? What do you mean by 'Mom'? When did you start calling me that!"

I started calling her 'Mom' after Seung-i was born, right?

So it must have felt awkward for me to call her 'Mom' now.

Moreover, I felt my eyes getting moist.

Tears welled up, thinking I could see my mother again.

My mother, who had been looking at me, tilted her head slightly and hit my back again.

Smack!

"What's wrong, son! Did the contract not go well?"

She probably thought something went wrong with the contract I went to sign.

No, I shouldn't cry in front of my mother, whom I haven't seen in a long time.

It would just make her worry about me.

After getting married, I only caused her worry, so this time I want to make her have a worry-free and happy life.

I smiled at my mother.

"It'll be fine."

Seeing my smile, my mother's worry seemed to subside, and she smiled back.

"Right, who's son are you? Let's go in, I'll make you some doenjang stew."

My mother opened the door and went in.

I followed and answered.

"Yes."

***

"Ah, it's slow."

This was what I said after entering my room and turning on the computer.

In 2017, computers had such good specs that the desktop appeared in just a few seconds after pressing the power button.

But the one in front of me was a 2000 model.

The one I bought before joining the military.

It was even a cheap, low-end model at the time.

The loading bar under the 'Windows 98' window was working hard to get to the desktop.

Seeing this, I sighed.

"Well, I should change it to XP when I earn some money."

After about 2 minutes?

Finally, a sound came.

Beep~ Beep.

The computer's voice indicating it had reached the desktop.

The long-lost Windows 98 desktop appeared.

There, I saw red, not blue, Korean word processing program icons.

"Ah, these are nostalgic icons."

It had been a very long time since I saw red icons.

It made me realize I had returned to the past.

Anyway, I opened a folder.

Manuscript.

There was one file in the folder.

'Emperor Loki.'

The file of the manuscript I had transferred from my notebook to a Korean word processing program while in the military.

I opened the file.

I read the prologue that appeared on the screen.

"In the 128th year of the Empire, numerous meteor showers adorned the sky. At that moment, a star that alternated between red and gold light stopped above the capital of the Fantaria Empire."

Reading the short prologue, I was speechless.

"..."

Silence.

My room was filled with a sense of stillness.

It couldn't be helped.

Stopping in the middle of reading the prologue, I shivered.

I was angry at my own writing.

It was similar to the prologues some writers brought in recently, which didn't capture the essence.

I used to scold the writers.

"Who writes such a prologue these days!"

But I realized late.

Scratching the back of my head awkwardly, I said.

"Ah, thinking about it, this was popular in the past."

***

Emperor Loki.

It was the story of Loki, the youngest son born to an emperor and a maid.

Since his mother was a maid, he didn't have much power, but he was the emperor's favorite son, so he was always in danger from the plots of the royal family.

His father, realizing this, asked a mercenary king he had connections with to take them away.

However, his mother, Lena, was already addicted and died, and Loki, who witnessed her death, sealed his memory of being the youngest prince and grew up under the mercenary king, Gatsu.

The story was about how he found his place again through various events.

Naturally, the ending was becoming the emperor.

But the story itself wasn't important right now.

Well, it was important, but what I was focusing on most was the prologue.

"Even if this is a popular prologue in the current market, it won't attract attention if everyone is writing the same thing."

I confidently said at the meeting.

"Prepare to contact me with the best conditions."

The best conditions.

It was a ridiculous statement to make.

I had to create a surefire hit.

As someone who had seen many works as an editor for a long time, I knew what was needed.

"The prologue needs to have an impact."

The impact of the prologue.

The Korean genre market, which had been in decline since 2012, experienced a revival with the concept of 'paid serialization.'

However, readers' tolerance, compared to the paper book market, had disappeared.

In the past, paper book readers would borrow books from rental stores for a fraction of the price, 8,000 won, they would pay in bookstores.

They would endure a slow start and read at least a third to half of the book.

If the book caught